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Fallon placed what remained of the apple down on the plate and crossed to the bag that had held the groceries, slipping out a simple purple slide phone. Moving back toward Melinda, she tapped her screen until it responded, revealing an intricate design of some kind -- a smattering of purples and greens and muted whites. It looked like a microscopic photo of something, but it wasn't clear what. The lines fell in even swirls across the glowing phone. "Is that your brother?" Fallon asked, sliding her phone open to reveal a full keyboard beneath. She quickly tapped over to the contacts section and began typing in Melinda's name.

"I love to shop," she added, smiling. Her nose sniffed the air. She had a few minutes before she would need to attend to both the crust and the filling. Handing her phone to Melinda, she said, "Here, you can just type yours into my phone. And I can type mine into yours." Holding her hand out for the phone, she waited patiently, a smile crossing her lips.

Another moment when Fallon felt the opening to kiss Melinda. Would that be too forward? Hm, perhaps. If a situation called for it, Fallon often felt compelled to act, like the gears had already started turning and she could not come back. Inching forward, she came within a foot of Melinda's face, eyes searching her own. Then she smelled it -- time to stir the apples. How unfortunate. Offering a wry smile, Fallon slipped away once more, moving to the stove. "I'm an only child," she said, offering a light shrug. She added several more things to the pan, both conventional and unconventional, stirring all the while.

Slipping her hand into a red polka-dotted glove, Fallon fished the hot pie pan out of the oven. A cinnamon and cardamom sweet earthiness filled the kitchen. Fallon rested the pan on the burner. She knew it was done based on smell alone. Grabbing the pot full of sugar and water, Fallon added the simple syrup to the apples, sprinkling a weird mixture of herbs and spices into the pan right after it. She stirred it a bit longer, voice falling quiet.

After a moment, she moved back to the stove where the pie crust was. Typically, you were supposed to let it cool, but Fallon was experimenting with gastronomy. She had added a compound to the crust to give in the solidity and crispiness that cooling did. Fun chef trick. Tilting the pan containing the filling to one side, she carefully scooped it into the pie crust. Once that was done, she slipped her hands back into the gloves and moved the pie pan to the counter where Melinda sat. Fallon had been quiet for a while. Realizing it, she glanced up to Melinda and smiled warmly, if only to remind her of her pleasantness, and then she glanced back to the pie and began laying softened strips of pie dough over the top in a criss-cross pattern.

Fallon's hands moved over the pie like she was tying her shoelaces. Each strip of dough was laid evenly on the other until a patchwork of crust and filling covered the surface. If you took a ruler out an measured, the small windows would be almost the exact same size. Slipping her hands back into the gloves, she stashed the pie back in the oven and grabbed the pan that had held the filling. Fallon moved to the sink and began to wash it. "I didn't have to share," she said, offering a small shrug. "Other people have said it is lonely, but I enjoyed it. Solitude is not such a bad thing." For example, no one could ruin the order of your life and send you into a manic rage.

Lifting her eyes to Melinda's, she smiled, hoping to infuse a feeling of happiness into her less than happy words. "I had my parents, the neighbor kids, my cooking. It was enough for me." Fallon enjoyed caring for people in much the same way that a toddler might enjoy playing with dolls. She preferred to be around others, but only those who followed by her rules -- and who hopefully looked as lovely as Melinda.

Flipping the pan over in the sink, she started to scrub the other side. "Barren Pines is nice. They provide me with a great kitchen classroom, which I appreciate. We get our own rooms. The other students are pleasant enough. I have no major complaints. I only wish I was permitted to use my classroom kitchen at all times." Barren Pines was a school like any other in Fallon's mind. She had toiled over the decision to go there, but now that she had taken the plunge, she had no intention of looking back. "I must admit," she began, a wry smile creeping up her cheek, "I would prefer to attend a school of all girls." Her eyes bounced playfully, but she dropped them back to the dish, scrubbing at the caramelized apple remains.

Hm, how disappointing. Fallon did not often let a girl's perceived hetero status keep her from pursuing, but it did pause her urge to kiss Melinda in that moment. Oh well. She had time to wear her down, to see how much she would stick to her guns on that issue. "Yes, that must be nice," she said, a polite but noncommital reaction. No disappointment read on her face, just a bemused smile, eyes searching Melinda's face. Fallon parted her lips to speak again, but her sharp nose caught a scent of something wafting from the oven.

The pie was done.

Crossing back to the oven, she slid her hands into the gloves and pulled out a steaming apple pie, setting it on a hot plate rest in front of Melinda. "There is something special in the sauce, but it is of my design. I'm afraid I don't give it out as part of the recipe," she said, slipping the gloves off and tucking them neatly in to the drawer. Moving back to the sink, Fallon began to wash all the dishes she had used -- thoroughly but with a systematic quickness. "I'd be happy to make it for you anytime. Just give me a call." And it was true. This wasn't some kind of attempt to woo her; Fallon would cook for anyone, anywhere, at anytime. She believed that a chef should always be prepared to entertain and viewed the requests for food as a venue for improving herself and her work.

Glancing down at the silver watch at her wrist, Fallon let the corners of her mouth dip downward. She needed to leave and head back to Barren Pines to meet with a classmate. Fallon was always on time and never missed a scheduled event. As much as she was enjoying her time with Melinda, she would need to bring it to a close. Drying the last of the dishes, she wiped her hands off on a yellow hand towel and then stashed it back on its hook. "I know this might seem a bit abrupt, but I actually need to run. I am meeting with a classmate back at Barren Pines, and I hate to be late." Fallon had eaten this apple pie a thousand times before and did not mind missing out. She could make it for herself anytime, and it had really just been a gift for Melinda. "Please enjoy the apple pie -- and tell me what you think. I like feedback."

Crossing back to the counter, she quickly packed up all of her belongings with the same deftness that she had moved everything else. "If you're ever in the neighborhood, I would be happy to show you around Barren Pines. Our rooms are easy to find. They arrange them by the first three letters of our last names, and I'm the only N-O-V. Really though, you are perfectly welcome." A normal Saturday had turned into a pleasant surprise, and Fallon would love to repeat it. She slung her purse back onto her arm and reassembled her cart, ready to leave.

Fallon leaned in for the hug, a smile playing across her lips. She had planned on hugging Melinda anyway so she did not mind that the girl initiated contact first. "I will," she said, nodding as she pulled away. "I look forward to hearing your opinion." Heading for the door, Fallon turned to offer a short wave to Melinda as she left, holding the door wide with one hand so that she could work her cart out into the hallway.

She had a mind for mazes and found her way out of Crystal Academy and onto the grounds in little time, hailing a cab after a few moments. There were far more trolling around the campus of Crystal Academy than she ever saw outside Barren Pines. It would seem the the wealth of the girls had ways of making life easier without them doing a thing. Slipping inside the cab, Fallon let her eyes stare out the window, thinking of Melinda, her upcoming meeting, and all the cooking that was to come.